


Impulsive Thoughts and Decisive Acts

by unbroken_halo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:08:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbroken_halo/pseuds/unbroken_halo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A thought which does not result in an action is nothing much,and an action which does not proceed from a thought is nothing at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impulsive Thoughts and Decisive Acts

**Author's Note:**

> Author/Artist LJ Name: unbroken_halo  
> Prompt Number: #34  
> Title: Impulsive Thoughts and Decisive Acts  
> Pairing(s): Harry/Draco  
> Summary: A thought which does not result in an action is nothing much,and an action which does not proceed from a thought is nothing at all.  
> Rating: R  
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K.Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Warning(s): None, really  
> Epilogue compliant? No  
> Word Count: 5,800  
> Author's Notes: I hope you enjoy my interpretation of your prompt! Special thanks go to AS for the quick and speedy beta. Any mistakes you find after it is has been in those capable hands are entirely my own.

Draco watched Potter run through the duelling course. The senior trainer fired spell after spell at him and the grace that the man had had during their school years had translated into something more now as an adult. Potter was trim, his responses quicker and retaliations more deadly than almost anyone else in the squad.  
  
He regularly gave the other Aurors and trainers a workout regardless of which area the day's training touched on. The spell fight intensified and Draco took his turn at Potter, silently, and only with the barest flick of his wand.  
  
 _Legilimens_!  
  
Draco jumped into Potter's mind; images flashing at him almost too fast for him to make out. Every day images, Potter in the kitchen, Potter and Weasley laughing. Potter holding his godson. The impressions came next, right on schedule.  _excited, tense, battle arousal, pulse pounding, exhilaration and anticipation for the fight_  He slipped free and lowered his wand to find Potter staring right at him.  
  
Bracing for it, he nodded at Potter. The spell ripped into his mind, Potter's grace had fled and a headache pounded against his senses. Draco tried to relax into Potter's spell, knowing his own senses were firing off in alarm.  _agony, hurt, pain, angry, throb, go numb, go numb_. He couldn't control the aching and it intensified as he tried to meld with Potter's magic.  
  
The magnitude of the spell and pain overwhelmed him and Draco gave it up as a lost cause and found back. He managed to cast a Stinging Hex and heard rather than saw Potter hit the floor. He glanced over as the pain lessened and saw Potter clutching his head, the other hand wrapped around his thigh.  
  
Bending at the waist, Draco closed his eyes, palms pressing against his eye sockets and his fingers clutching at his forehead. "Potter!"  
  
Everything, everyone in the room paused. Draco felt the others glancing at him, almost cringing at the tone of his voice. Draco swallowed, waiting for the apology or the blast of anger from Potter. It varied from day to day but for the most part, he got on well with Potter. What Draco would say about his relationship with Potter, now, was that they shared amicable hostilities. After three months of training, Potter's skill in the Mind Arts had not approved, even if their attitudes toward one another had.   
  
He did well enough with the Occlumency, sending Draco the images in his mind of every day things that most people thought of and had at the forefront of their minds on a daily basis. The right expressions came though as well. In fact, Draco really had to work at getting past the barrier thoughts to delve into the deeper, hidden notions that were supposed to be kept secret.  
  
As a civilian contractor to the Ministry, even an expert one that had a security clearance as high as his own, Draco knew there were things that didn't need to be made public. Potter did well at keeping the secrets of his job and the training had made his defences even better.  
  
However, the return side of the Mind Arts, Legilimency, still seemed to stump Potter completely. And they took the disastrous results out on one another despite tempers and attitudes being adjusted over the years. Sometimes, though, the violence bled through and other times it seemed as if there was a peace between them that Draco couldn't explain. He knew which one today's ruinous lesson was going to end in though, and couldn't help but be disappointed in his own progress with Potter's training.  
  
Aurors had two measures used for defence and offense while in the field and during interrogation: conditioning or the Mind Arts spells. Most couldn't use either of the spells, and so were habituated against the manipulations of dark wizards. Those few who could master the Mind Arts were highly sought after as they could break through any measures taken against the blacker magics employed by magical criminals as well as truth potions.  
  
That Potter could tap into both spells put him on a fast track with the Ministry, if he could just get the power under control. Other than the Mind Arts, Potter was the perfect Auror and was moving up the ranks quickly. It was Draco's job to make certain Dawlish kept his perfect Auror, so he wasn't stolen away by another department. The Unspeakables were devious when it came to acquiring something they desired for themselves.  
  
A hand on his shoulder had Draco prizing one eye open. The lights of the room seared his eye and it watered. His lashes brushed his cheek once more, protecting him from the pain.  
  
"That bad, eh?"  
  
A chilled phial was pressed against his hand and he wrapped his fingers about it, trying not to think of the throbbing of his blood when Potter's fingernails scratched his skin. Even that simple gesture seemed amplified a thousand fold. He gritted his teeth together and straightened enough to be able to imbibe the potion.  
  
"You have the finesse of a rampaging skrewt," Draco drawled but knocked back the solution and sighed as the pain dulled to a low pulsating beat. Sighing again, he opened his eyes and glared at Potter.  
  
Potter's full mouth curled into a pout and Draco was hard-pressed not to reach out and grab his bottom lip and give it a good twist. He also warred with the desire to slant his mouth over Potter's and taste him, swallow down any sounds he might make.  
  
"I'm trying," Potter mumbled and ran a hand through his sweaty hair.  
  
The damp strands stuck up worse than usual on one side of Potter's head and the other half of them were still plastered to his skull from the workout. This look made Draco want to do other things to Potter that shouldn't be mentioned in polite company. He tightened his defences down, just in case Potter tried to be sneaky as he was sometimes wont to do. He gave another sigh and rubbed his temple. "I'm done for today but I would like you to try a different exercise tonight before you go to bed."  
  
One dark brow rose up high on Potter's forehead. "Besides, clearing my mind, relaxing my body and sleeping?"  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes and received the dynamic Potter grin, and swore that it was the headache that made him feel entirely unstable and not the look of Potter's mouth, those full lips spreading wide for him. He shook his head and a quiet groan escaped.  
  
Potter's smile diminished and he reached out a hand to Draco. "Am I getting worse?"  
  
Since Potter was being contrite, he would attempt to be civil as well. "I don't think so. That one was just particularly horrific," Draco offered as the heat from Potter's palm warmed his shoulder. The blunt fingers squeezed him gently and let go.  
  
"Do you need an escort home?"  
  
"No," Draco answered, trying to remember not to shake his head, or move it very much at all. "I'll be fine." He licked his lips and took a deep breath, before blowing it out again.  
  
"As I was saying, tonight after you've relaxed and are in bed, I want you to try this different exercise. Separate out your feelings and close them behind a door but do not Occlude. Just try to compartmentalize everything you did today after you've released the tension from your body."  
  
Potter's look of disbelief gave him a moment of consternation and Draco slipped into Potter's thoughts.  
  
 _Asleep, alone, no control, open, laid bare, easily manoeuvred, manipulated. DON'T THINK ABOUT IT!!!_  
  
Draco blinked and Potter dropped his gaze.   
  
"What did you see?"  
  
"Nothing. Just impressions."  
  
Potter nodded but didn't meet his gaze again.  
  
Pursing his lips, Draco spoke again. "No one can enter unless you allow it. There is no more connection between the two of you. Not even through my mark."  
  
Potter's eyes darted to his briefly then looked away. "I know."  
  
Draco nodded. "Good. In the morning, I want to see just exactly how you've divided out the thoughts. We'll go easy as when we implemented your shielding techniques and hope this method works. I've improved greatly on the training I received."  
  
Potter's lips quirked and Draco was glad to see it. It wasn't the full on smile but an easy set to Potter's mouth. "Wonderful to know we aren't still sticking to a mad woman's lessons."  
  
Draco snorted. "I like to think I have bettered the exercise and made it less invasive to learn than bombarding your mind as Snape was wont to do."  
  
Potter cringed but the smile stayed in place. "As good as Snape was, even I can admit your instruction procedures are less brutal."  
  
"Your appreciation is duly noted."  
  
Potter's grin widened and he nodded at Draco. "Rest well, then. I am hitting the showers."  
  
Draco watched Potter walk away, trying not to stare as the top layer of spelled leather protections came off and his robes began to sag on his shoulders. Potter vanished into the changing area of the training room. Draco gathered his composure and headed for the Floo. He was going to have to work extra hard tonight to let go of the connection to Potter's training.  
  
Draco pushed into his townhouse and sighed, leaning against the door as the coolness of his home surrounded him. Like Potter before him, Draco made a beeline for the loo, dropping clothes as he walked, knowing the house elf would come after him and tidy things up.  
  
He was nude by the time he reached his ensuite and he leaned over to start the water. Steam filled the room and Draco dropped a few tablets into the bottom of the stall. The herbs: eucalyptus, mint, neroli and camomile essential oils, pressed into a handmade small disc helped to relieve the stress and tension as well as relax his body to help him prepare for sleep.  
  
He stepped into the bath and breathed deeply of the scents as the tablets dissolved as he pulled the frosted doors closed. The pounding spray of water from the shower head beat out the knots he'd acquired during the day. Running a hand over his face, Draco washed away the grime. He took his time, soothing away the aches and pains as he soaped his body and shampooed his hair.  
  
Each glide of his slick fingers across his skin helped ease back the stresses. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that in taking slow, gentle care of his physical self like this aroused his senses. His prick filled, lifting away from his thigh just from the stimulus of the bath; he didn't need his imagination just yet, but that would come soon. The creamy almond and oatmeal soap slid down his body and Draco scooped up a generous amount of lather before reaching for his cock.  
  
Pressing one hand against the steam warmed tiles, he set about stroking himself. Easy, slow glides of his fist over his cock. Though he was trying to relax, the muscles in his thighs tensed as he anticipated release. Biting his lip, Draco moved his hand faster, his fingers squeezing harder with a slight twist as he reached the tip of his dick.  
  
Swallowing back the moans, he rocked his hips into the motions of his hand, sliding his prick through the tightening space of his fingers. His mind drifted and he imagined the doors to the stall opened and Potter joined him. The water slicked the dark shaggy mess of hair to his face as Potter bent to his knees.  
  
The mischievous grin spread his lips even as Potter opened his mouth, and Draco could almost feel them close about him. He groaned, feeling the suction and tiny little laps of tongue along his skin. The thought made him shudder and he stroked even faster, panting now in the heat of the shower as he pushed himself toward orgasm.  
  
With a few more strokes and a sharp cry, Draco came, working each and every spurt of semen from his prick until he was spent and overly sensitive to the motions. He dropped his cock, soap, semen and water dripping from his hand and body until the spray washed him clean again.  
  
With a satisfied sigh, Draco shut off the water and pushed open the door. He drew the warmed towel off its rack and rubbed the terry cloth over his body. He squeezed out his hair, binding it back with a thong before wrapping the towel about his hips.  
  
Checking his face in the mirror, he decided to shave in the morning and finished his ablutions then hung the towel back over the rack. Padding into his bedroom, Draco approved of and dressed in the lounging pants laid out for him.  
  
Turning, he found the tray from the house elves settled by his bed and his book lying on the second pillow next to his. Flipping back the duvet, Draco slid beneath the blankets and covered his legs as he lifted the lid off the tray.  
  
A baked filet of fish, herbed rice pilaf and steamed baby carrots and broccoli florets were hot and ready as he brought the tray to his lap. The fish flaked nicely under the tines of his fork and he hummed in appreciation at that first scrumptious bite. He continued to eat, picking up his book and opening to the chapter where he'd left off, losing himself in the pleasurable mind candy of the novel.  
  
He sipped a light wine and he delved deeper into the mystery of the story, methodically eating everything on the plate. Distracted by the intrigue of the story he set the tray aside when he finished, not even noticing as it disappeared and a parfait of berries and cream appeared in its place. But he reached out automatically, knowing that there would be pudding following his meal.  
  
The tartness of the berries contrasted with the sweetness of the cream and Draco closed his eyes in bliss with the first bite. He consumed the rest of the pudding, mind still on the murderer stalking his next victim. He never even heard the pop of the glass dessert dish vanishing as he tried to put together the clues the author had given him so far before he reached the end of the story and the villain could begin his monologue.  
  
 _Can't sleep._  
  
Draco blinked and looked around, seeing nothing. Rubbing his eyes, he put his book aside to make a trip back to the loo.  
  
 _Rest before test. Hide THAT thought._  
  
Startled again, he stuck his head out of the door, looking for the source of the sounds. Still finding nothing, he glanced toward the nightstand and gaped at the clock by his bed. It was later than he'd first thought. No wonder he was imagining things. He was so tired. He rinsed his mouth, licking his teeth at the left over pep-o-mint from the paste and yawned.  
  
Eyes heavy with sleep, Draco settled into bed, pulled the blankets up over his head and immediately drifted off.  
  


~*~

  
  
  
"Sir, breakfast is ready in the lounge."   
  
Draco nodded."Thank you, Nippy." He rose from the low boy and strode out of the room, his mind on his schedule. Morning training session with Potter. Rounds with the interns at St. Mungo's. Mid-morning meeting to discuss budget for next month. Business lunch meeting at Camino. And that didn't even include his afternoon, which he would deal with later. Right now, if he didn't partake of some food and caffeine then he knew it was going to be a bear of a day.  
  
Draco ran a hand over his face as he settled at the table. He poured his coffee and looked over the offerings. Poached eggs—  
  
 _Ugh, no. Slimy looking eyeballs..._  
  
Draco froze as he heard the voice and glanced around the room. No one around but the house elves, who certainly wouldn't have had an opinion like that, let alone voiced it out loud for him to hear. He glanced back down at the plate and made a face: slimy looking eyes, indeed. Swallowing back the rising gorge at the thought of such things on an empty stomach, Draco reached for the platter of scones and his favourite jam—  
  
 _Mmm...warm drizzle of treacle..._  
  
Draco dropped the little jar of jam and it rolled across the table, knocking into the clotted cream and sloshing some out on to the table. He stood, wand drawn, and searched the room once more. What kind of cretin would want treacle on anything they ate? And where in Merlin's name was that voice coming from?  
  
Hunger completely forgotten, he stalked through the lounge and out into the hallway, then began checking the rest of the rooms. The house he'd purchased hadn't boasted any mention of a haunting, and Draco well knew that the past could interfere with the present, which is why he eschewed any other Malfoy holdings when deciding to leave the Manor.  
  
Never before had he had any problems with voices, spooks or other phenomena, and the thought that perhaps he'd been working too hard without some down time disturbed him. He made it a point each and every night to put away his job. And after the way he'd ended yesterday, he was certain his relaxation had worked.  
  
 _Bloody hell! I'm late!_  
  
The exclamation startled Draco out of his revere and he glanced up at the huge clock over the mantel in the lounge. He, too, was running behind because of the strange occurrence this morning and he summoned Nippy.  
  
The elf had his cloak as well as a toasted English muffin with an egg on it. He smirked and nodded at the elf, wrapping his cloak about him before taking the breakfast sandwich and walking out the door to the grounds Apparition point.  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  
Harry shuffled his feet, waiting for Dawlish to finish reading his reports. So far his training had been going well. He'd advanced through the ranks and managed to pass all the tests except for one. Despite failing the lesson, he'd gone on to get his partner and be out in the field. However, the one failed lesson always came back to bite him on his arse. Not many other Aurors could do what he could and those that could had taken turns trying to bring Harry up to snuff on the one special skill that was available to him and highly sought after.  
  
Eventually Dawlish had taken Harry in hand and had acquired a specialist. A civilian specialist and it burned Harry's arse to find out the specialist was Draco Malfoy. It didn't help that they worked well together once they stopped arguing either. It became sort of a game, and Harry liked those, even if it seemed he could never win with Malfoy.  _Bloody, blond git._  
  
No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't master Legilimency. His Occlumency skills were on par but he wasn't subtle enough with the opposite spell. Malfoy had ripped through his defences, set his mind up better than ever and Harry hadn't improved one bit.  _Stupid, Malfoy's methods didn't work any better than Snape's original lessons. So much for the vaunted pureblood supremacy._  
  
Regardless of his feelings on the extra lessons and trainer,  _both worthless and a waste of time_ , Harry knew it was that particular skill set that was having him called to the floor today. Add that on top of the fact that he'd not slept well, despite Malfoy's reassurances that nothing would break into his mind, and Harry was just in a foul mood, bar none. At least he'd maintained his one most deeply held secret and that thought alone is what allowed him to continue through his training.  
  
"Sir? You sent for me."  
  
"Potter," Dawlish never looked up from the reports, his quill continued across the parchment before he flipped to a new one. "Despite the botched raid last week, I've decided to allow you to stay with the team but I need the report from your trainer. He must sign off on your skills before you'll be allowed back into the field."  
  
Harry nodded, even though Dawlish couldn't see him. He'd been expecting something like this and was glad Dawlish still wanted him. "Yes, sir."  
  
"You're a good man, Potter, and I like having you in the Corps but if this problem isn't solved there could be greater consequences involved other than a few Oblivated Muggles. Aurors need to be at the top of their game out in the field and anticipate things; this is where the legal use of Legilimency comes into play. We aren't Muggles and need to use every advantage we have when it comes to dealing with dark wizards, especially when so few have the talent to use Mind Arts."  
  
 "Yes, sir, I understand."  
  
"How is your training going?"  
  
"I think we have a problem," another voice answered Dawlish and Harry whirled around, groaning to see Malfoy.  
  
"Malfoy," Harry muttered then turned back to Dawlish. "I'm trying but I don't think using the civilian is helping."  
  
"What kind of problem?" Dawlish looked up from the reports then and frowned as he waved Harry's concerns away.  
  
Malfoy turned to Dawlish and sighed. "Potter is leaking; something has gone off with the studies—"  
  
"Leaking?" Harry and Dawlish asked, staring at the man as if he'd lost his mind.  
  
Malfoy rubbed the bridge of nose. "What did you put treacle on this morning, Potter? I am hoping it wasn't some badly prepared eggs."  
  
Harry face paled, even though he was confused by the change of the subject. "Err... I had treacle over some scones this morning because the eggs Kreacher made weren't done correctly. How in Merlin's name did you know that?"  
  
Malfoy snorted as Dawlish continued to stare at the two of them. "The same reason I know you were late to the morning briefing as well as you cursing my name and methods the entire trip from the lift to Dawlish's office. As I said, you are  _leaking_."  
  
Dawlish finally cleared his throat. "So, does he need medical treatment? How did this happen?"  
  
"I'm not entirely certain. Mind Arts are difficult magic to practice. I have sent notice to my own colleagues to consult on the matter."  
  
 _About bloody time someone better was contacted. No need to hide any longer._  
  
Malfoy glared at him, but Harry ignored him.  
  
Dawlish grunted. "Well, what ever it is you need to do to fix him, do it. I need my Auror back, ASAP!"  
  
"I think I should isolate Potter so I could examine him personally."  
  
 _Isolation? With Malfoy. Hrmm... Oh! Fuck that!_  
  
Malfoy flinched and Harry smirked, calling him all sorts of names and staring right at Malfoy the entire time.  
  
"Do it! Go now. Put him up at the facilities in St. Mungo's. The Aurors have their own ward on the Spell Damage level."  
  
"What?!" Harry started after hearing the orders.  _I will hurt you Malfoy and not in a good way. Just wait until I get my hands on you. NO! Don't need to go that way._  
  
"I can't go to St. Mungo's. The reporters will have a field day."  _Shut the hell up, Harry. Shut down the thoughts. Shut down on Malfoy!_  
  
Malfoy winced. "Auror Dawlish..."  
  
Dawlish ignored Malfoy and narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Potter, if you don't want to be reprimanded for insubordination, I suggest you pack your bags and report—"  
  
Malfoy interrupted. "I happen to think Potter is correct in his assessment of the situation. I for one would also like to keep this ... oddity quiet. My clients don't need to hear about Potter's malady and associate it with my practice."  
  
 _Shock of shocks there. Considering his arse first. Like always._  
  
Malfoy rolled his eyes and opened his mouth as if to continue but Dawlish made a face. "Fine. I don't care if you set up house at the bloody Park Plaza, just make certain Potter is fit for duty by the end of the month." He pointed at Harry. "Two weeks, Potter, then I am re-assigning you."  
  
Harry nodded and swept out of the office. Malfoy followed then grabbed Harry's arm. "My apologies, Potter. I have no idea why this is occurring but it would help greatly if you could shield your mind better. Your vitriol isn't going to help matters."  
  
"I wouldn't have this problem if it weren't for you, so I'll accept that apology. I guard my mind just fine and have no reason to cease hostilities though."  
  
Malfoy took a deep breath and Harry watched him straighten, glad he'd was taller than Malfoy even if it was only just a few centre meters or so. He fidgeted trying not to let his thoughts leak to Malfoy.  
  
"Have you heard anything of my thoughts?"  
  
Harry stilled and thought about his morning. "No, I don't think so. I'd have recognized it. I know what it's like to be possessed."  
  
Malfoy sucked in a breath and shook his head. "It is not possession, Potter!" he hissed then tugged Harry further down the corridor into an alcove. Harry just stared down at Malfoy's hand on his wrist. "Look, this could go one of two ways: a spectacular break through or an unmitigated disaster. If you would get the stick out of your arse—"  
  
 _That's saying something coming from you... and don't touch me again._  
  
Malfoy let go of him as if he'd been stung and Harry smirked. With a sigh, Malfoy straightened his robes and looked up at Harry again. His eyes were clouded and Harry concentrated, feeling a small amount of regret as well as a bit of excitement flowing out from Malfoy.  
  
"You're excited we have this connection?!"  
  
Malfoy's eyes widened and he grabbed Harry's arm again. "You heard something?"  
  
Harry looked down at his arm pointedly then back at Malfoy. "No, but I can feel it. It's wafting off of you in waves."  
  
Malfoy's features slipped back into a blank expression. "Damn, that's new," he muttered and turned away, walking in the opposite direction from Harry.  
  
Startled that Malfoy had just abandoned him, Harry followed after him. "You care to explain?"  
  
Malfoy spun and slammed right in to Harry. Harry gripped Malfoy's upper arms to steady them.  _Nice biceps... for a git._  
  
Malfoy blinked. "Thank you, I suppose."  
  
Harry groaned. "Forget it. What's new?"  
  
Malfoy shook his head. "Come with me. We can try to figure out this problem. I have numerous books available in my library and what's not at my home we most likely can find at the Manor."  
  
Harry stared at Malfoy. "You want me to go home with you?"  _Don't leak, no trickles, don't let any thoughts seep out..._  
  
"Yes, and I don't think that is any better than the stray thoughts."  
  
"But you didn't hear my thoughts?"  
  
"Yes, I did. You were thinking about not letting anything slip out."  
  
Harry scowled. "Fine. I'll come. Give me your Floo address and I'll be there in an hour or so. I have to report in with Peabody before I take leave."  
  
Malfoy dug in his robe pockets and withdrew his wand, conjuring a slip of parchment and scrolling across it with the tip of his wand. "Here. I'll open the Floo in an hour."  
  
Harry pocketed the scrap and nodded.  _Merlin, I can't believe I am doing this. Boarding with Malfoy. Hell has frozen over._  
  
"Not yet. Hell's still a fiery pit, if that's a comfort, since I can't believe I asked," Malfoy drawled.  
  
Harry snorted and gave Malfoy a salute then continued on to the lifts.  
  
  


~*~

  
  
  
  
Draco paced the lounge in front of the fireplace, waiting on Potter. He'd been getting little snippets of Potter's thoughts for the past two hours and still, Potter had not shown himself. He'd thought he'd forgotten to open the Floo while he researched the phenomenon happening with the two of them but couldn't find any reference to the mind speaking.  
  
It wasn't until Nippy brought him tea, that he realized how much time had passed, especially since the voice/thoughts had nearly ceased.  
  
He wasn't entirely certain what was happening since now; all he was receiving was impressions of emotions. And it was wrecking havoc with his own emotions and well-being. If Potter didn't arrive soon, Draco was going to shutdown from the bombardment. Reluctance, small moment of jubilation and warmth, all warred with anger, confusion as well as some sort of tendril of feeling he didn't recognise.  
  
Shaking his head, Draco paused and picked up his cup of tea. It was cooler than he liked but he drank it anyway for the distraction. He glanced up at the clock and glared at the time.  
  
Fine, if Potter wanted to play the stubborn prat then Draco wasn't going to let it affect his mood any longer. He'd already spent too much time on both Potter and the situation. He needed to remove at least one of the distractions from his mind. Sinking to the plush sofa, Draco sat then turned his body around, relaxing back on the cushions. He sighed and closed his eyes, reaching for the mediation techniques that would allow him some peace of mind.  
  
With a deep breath, he exhaled then inhaled through his nose and blew the breath out once more past his lips. In his mind's eye, Draco saw himself lain out on the sofa, and he pictured the day's incidents. Imagining the day in a series of physical events, he slowly pushed the memories out of his body.  
  
The tension in his feet eased and he could feel his toes tingling. The sensation of heaviness left the area and his legs were next. Gently, in layers, his mind and body fell slack until he'd made his way up the entire length of his body. The only thing left to do was to compartmentalize his memories in his mind, making certain they were organized.  
  
He almost had the headache that was beginning behind his eyes scaled away when the Floo flared. There was a crash and swearing, some quite colourful, and that Draco had never heard before. He sighed as every bit of stress he'd release crashed back down on him and he groaned.  
  
The accompanying, echoing groan had Draco opening his eyes to find Potter sprawled on the floor just in front of his hearth.  
  
"Graceful much, Potter," he murmured, still trying to maintain the calm he was slowly losing despite the fact that he once again felt as if a weight was resting on his shoulders.  
  
"I heard that," Potter grumbled.  
  
Draco sighed. "Of course you did. I spoke out loud for that one." Heaving himself up from the sofa, he reached down and offered a hand to Potter. "Do you always exit the Floo as such?"  
  
Potter glared at him, but grabbed his hand. "Harry, and no. I have learned to step gracefully but for some reason, it felt as if all the muscles in my legs had gone slack." He jerked on Draco's hand at the same time Draco pulled and came up off the floor faster than expected.  
  
Draco never had a chance to respond before he had a lap full of ranting Potter. Tired and frustrated with everything happening, Draco gave in to impulse. With a roll of his eyes, he grabbed Potter's neck and brought their mouths together. He slipped his tongue along the seam of Potter's mouth relishing in the taste of him and the feeling of his weight on his lap.  
  
Potter responded and Draco nearly cheered.  _That ought to shut his trap._  
  
Suddenly, Potter stiffened in his arms then pushed back. "That I heard, and if a snog from you is all you think it takes to make me be quiet, you've another think coming."  
  
Draco eyed Potter then smirked. "Well, it seems we've had a breakthrough." He shoved Potter off of him. "If you can walk then let me see if we can't find anything about this in the books."  
  
Draco stood, staring down at Potter in the floor before stepping aside and moving toward his office. Potter grabbed his trouser cuff and Draco nearly went sprawling, his arms pin wheeling as he tried to catch his balance.  
  
"What the hell, Potter?" Draco jerked his leg free and glared at him.  
  
Potter chuckled. "Think you can snog me and get away with it?"  
  
"It ceased your mad rambling. Now, if you don't mind, can we just get on with finding out what exactly is happening and finding a solution?"  
  
"I'm game if you are," Potter offered as he climbed to his feet ad grinned that smile at him.  
  
 _You don't know just how much of a sporting man I am._  
  
 _Are you willing to try me, Malfoy?_  
  
Draco stared at Potter, and Potter just grinned at him.  
  
 _Harry, and show me the way, Draco._  
  
"This way. I'm willing to try anything to get some peace," Draco led the way to his office, trying to remember how to breathe and wondering if he'd lost his mind somewhere when Potter had begun to invade his.  
  
After a couple more hours of research as well as a dinner break, Draco was no closer to figuring out what had caused the thought transfer or to a resolution to the problem. Potter thoughts had become increasingly erratic and confusing, distracting Draco further. He had a sudden thought as he stared down at the half-eaten dinner.  
  
Sighing, he tossed his fork to the table and looked across at Potter.  
  
"What are you fretting about that has you so tied up in knots?"  
  
Potter's eyes went wide and he stared at Draco.  _Can't reveal. Can't let it out._  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes. "Tell me. It may have something to do with this connection."  
  
Potter shook his head.  
  
"Then neither of us is going to get a bit of rest tonight. I will find a solution even if I have to keep you here the entire time Dawlish has allotted us."  
  
Potter stared at him. "Are you mad?"  
  
Draco pushed away from the table and moved next to Potter, He bent pushing his face right into Potter's. "Not yet, but I can and will make your life—"  
  
Potter grabbed his face, slanting his mouth over Draco's. Surprised, Draco gasped and Potter took over, slipping his tongue past Draco's lips. Dinner, the wine Potter had consumed and the spicy taste of something more enveloped Draco's senses. He grasped Potter's face and groaned.  
  
 _Potter..._  
  
 _It's Harry. If we are sharing this much now, I want more. I want it all._  
  
The thought startled Draco and he pulled back from Potter. "That's what you were frustrated about?"  
  
Potter nodded. "Nothing I did seemed to affect you until now. I couldn't tell what was going on inside that head of yours unless I bungled onto it and pain is definitely not something I wanted to share with you."  
  
"Potter—"  
  
 _I'm certain._  
  
Potter grabbed Draco again, pulling him down onto his lap and pressing their mouths together.  
  
 _Finally!_  
  
Draco chuckled against Harry's mouth.  
  
 _Yes, finally._

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